A Possible Ending to a Day

Standing at the Washington Blue Line station I stupidly focused on my aching back, knees, and feet. My eyes drooped and my spirit danced with it. I wanted bed. Scheduling conflicts forced me into an extremely long work day. A work day that I began very sleepily. It was 11:30pm and I had to get up at 5:45am the next morning to return downtown. To the smell. The absurdities and conveniences. The weirdness of it all.

I watched a man in a trench coat walk back and forth, from the support beam to the lego-like edge of the platform. He would drape the ends of his feet over, lean, and stick a leg out to turn, Queen’s-guard style, back towards the pole. He would then focus on a group of fair-looking women and then repeat the process. This continued for fifteen minutes. The whole time I shivered at the thought of him jumping in front of the (hopefully soon) oncoming train. I didn’t care about him. I was thinking of the delays. And the smell. What would it smell like? A deli? That’s when I remembered Kate’s story.

She was just standing there. I had only been in Chicago for a month or so. When the train pulled up she just walked off the platform. The train couldn’t stop. It slowly rolled over the top of her. Everyone screamed and I just watched. It was on an elevated platform so I wondered if her body parts spilled onto the street below.
Don’t do it. I didn’t wan to see it. I want to go to bed.

The train came. It was moving faster than usual. Don’t. Don’t.

He approached the edge of the platform and the wind from the train ruffled his hair. His trench coat transformed into a cape and he boarded a different car than me.